A journal of a "targeted individual" (TI); a person subjected to organized harassment and possible mind-control activity in the form of gangstalking, directed plasma beams, masers and other unconventional energies.
My family, who have become evasive, unobjective and play dumb, do not wish to explain why I am the centerpiece of a substantial nonconsensual human experimentation activity operation in Victoria and Penticton, British Columbia, Canada.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

1340h
The day after Christmas, Boxing Day, is also a statutory holiday here, but that doesn't stop the stores from pouring on the discounts and deals to extend the shopping season to the New Year. I suppose it is equivalent to the post US Thanksgiving holiday, the shopping fever that strike there.

And a day at my place after two away, one being a stayover at the First Feral Family home, on the couch in the living room where the gifts were exchanged and opened an hour later. Most TI's are profoundly cynical about the nature of the motivation of others, and it remains that way, even on Christmas Day.

Plus, a day with the out-of-town brother and family visiting the FFF house, and a lunch with the ex and daughter and all of them the day before makes for extra harassment when I get back to my place. It seems that whatever they detect in energetic interactions at the FFF house, especially with visiting family there, they attempt to elicit and detect here some two miles away. In that respect, they have poured on extra fuzzy maser balls that travel in formation and then split apart immediately in front of me, or have also applied extra telekinetic fuckery by having things move with no apparent force or direction. Plus, an increase of "dude talk", male banter without being able to distinguish the words has also erupted from the street, from supposedly occupied adjacent apartments of this block, and can even somehow bypass my earmuffs that I have on.

Other games have been to enhance the chemical ether; having me soak the two facecloths that have been accreting a brownish tone in the last two months, due to an increase of inexplicable bloody shaving on my front; even sharp new blades bring on these accompanying lesions that seep strange dark non-capillary blood that are staunched by the steptic pencil. That wasn't good enough for today though; three rounds of staunchings for some of their lesions, again, with a deep uncleansed and unoxygenated blood appearence. It is my contention that they can draw blood and other bodily fluids from their selected victims anytime they want, making these accompanying bleedings with full frontal shaving (also their planted need) to be some kind of game, whereby the cleaned facecloth gets to hang dry in the bathroom. I have also mentioned that the perps have a strong need to do blood sampling in situ, that is, have it on me instead of in me, and that blood with its magnetic properties is requried to be separated from the victim for their energetic research objectives. The perps pulled a street assault in 2007 or 2008, causing me to bleed onto my olive green jacket, which was subsequently laundered the next day. And at a family dinner the next day, where they all pretended not to see the recent and healing scar above my L. eyebrow, why, my supposedly Alzheimer's father managed to grab my jacket exactly where the blood had been, making out that he was "inadvertently" grabbing the wrong jacket when it was time to depart. Funny that, setting up that asshole, the fucker who cast me into this fulltime nightmare from birth, who operating under the cover of dementia, to be the very person/quisling to touch and repeatedly grope my jacket in the very spot they had me bleed on it, though not visually detectable as it had been laundered.

And so it goes, these bullshit family gangstalking events, with even the five year old niece doing her bit to flit in and out of the magnetic beam from the CRT TV, pertubing my viewing as well as the energy field. They were on my ass and making sure to perturb my personal space at certain confluence moments, as well as lining themselves up like stooges next to the TV. I was viewing the commentary DVD on the TV, after having "discovered" how to play them with the adroit combination of three remote controls (IR beams flitting through the living room, note), with an elderly Billy Wilder and ... widow, in her grey hair, and lo, if my quisling parents didn't line themselves up next to the TV, meeting the same geriatric look as those on the adjacent TV. And I wondered why they had lined up five geriatrics next to the cheese case in the supermarket two days ago, selecting a particular cheese for the first time in over two years from the other side of the case. This switch in cheese choice was fomented by a sudden unavailibility of the larger size of the usual cheese that I get, an organic cheddar. The substitute cheese choice was my usual cheddar from 2005 to 2008, and then it became unavailible, and the organic cheddar was the substitute. So, for the first time, they are having me switch cheddar cheese again, back to my former long standing choice.

Another advent in permitted food choices and colors today was to allow me to eat antipasti for the first time since 2004, being a regular item in my quesadillas until then (since 2003 release from illegal incarceration). I recived a small jar as a Christmas "gift" yesterday, and decided to include it in making up a quesadilla at lunchtime. And lo, if they didn't put same colored coated Fuckwits on the street outside my apartment to be seen immediately following lunch, and an extra viewing when attending to the laundry, the face cloths being laundered after a prior soaking in a stain cleaning compound in the bathtub. That is correct; two red coated and one yellow coated Fuckwit between them lingered outside for some ten minutes or more, adroitly copying the same colors of the antipasti I ate, with the remainder in a jar in the fridge. Such are the machinations of the extreme assholes who govern every aspect of my existence, and every item, color and material properties of all that I see.

I got to read more of the Death of Camelot while the soaking face cloths were in the bathtub, and I suppose that was contributing to the chemical ether at the time, and the overhead rumbling noise was also managing to get through my earmuffs when I read certain names. That, and the hot rod noise has also ramped up for some reason. Even back to back hot rod noise on this statutory holiday that is not in any shopping district. So why do I get this noise all the time, especially when there isn't any hot rods to be seen should I look outside? Don't know, but they did cut back on the motorcycle noise to some extent, now that cool and wet weather has settled in. I also don't why they decide to back off on unseasonal noises, when it seems they get considerable leverage from them, especially motorcycles, as they are also used in blatant visual only props, not even running.

Funny how the perps only let me view Some Like It Hot yesterday, on Christmas Day no less, with visiting family. The DVD was purchased 01-2010, and hadn't been viewed in keeping with their games of having me purchase items and not use them. The DVD had been taken to my mother's place in 10-2010 in order to test the DVD player my brother had given her. All kinds of technical problems erupted to thwart playing it until last night, as mentioned above when three remote controls were used in combination to permit it to play. The DVD player, the TV and the set top modem all have remote controls, and it is still a mystery as to how they all work for even the TV. The TV service repairman stirred the mystery to some extent, though it is most curious as to why he left the cable connectors lying around when he pulled (and removed) all the old white color insulated cable and replaced it with black coated cable in 11-2010.

Anyhow, on other aspects of this all-inclusive Fuckover, the ex and daughter are off to Seattle (S) for two days, my former city of residence until the assholes drove me out of work in 2002. As I have mentioned in the past, there is a geographic/provenance aspect to this harassment and its research objectives, and it fits the pattern. The perps tell me that they are establishing psychic connections, and are furthering their research by sending one party on a trip to see at what distance their psychic connections are lost. My out-of-town brother and family leave tomorrow for Kamloops, and that would be a NE direction. But of course the perps and their quisling surrogates (aka "family") are nonstop liars, and nothing they ever feed me can be taken at face value, so who knows what they are up to, save a total and constant abusive litany of vile personal invasions, down to all dreams, behaviors, actions and thoughts.

The assholes were testing their orange color games while I was kept in a dream state before getting up at the late hour of 1000h. They had a red haired person in my dream, and they gradually increased the level of orange-ness around this person, tinting everyone and everything around them orange as well. That the perps are also beserk over placing red haired gangstalkers around me has also been long noted on this blog, and I seem to get more than my visual fair share of red heads on TV, online and in static pictures as well.

This orange color invasion of my dream is interesting, as they seem to be stepping up my subconscious aversions of specific colors when kept in a REM dream state. Formerly, they limited themselves to coloring my environment with their chosen color themed Fuckwits and other props like vehicle colors. But now, they are adding surreal elements into the color testing mix while in an REM state. The assholes once did this in real form, coloring all the grass red while my in-town brother and I carried an object in the course of moving my belongings into the crawlspace of the FFF house in 2006. He then asks me, "wasn't that a rush?". I said it was an outrage, as they also made me slightly nauseous as a part of the fuckery. Said brother was putting on the act that he didn't know what gangstalkers were last night when driving me home. I don't get the chance to challenge the asshole, as he has seen more than a few odd things going on in my proximity, ones that he agreed were extraordinary at the time, but only with me cross examining him, leaving him with no excuses. Basis facts like two doctors who tell me that I am being harassed, and that this is no clinical cause, "somehow" get "forgotten" when I want to press my case and blow the playing dumb cover he is given by the sickos.

I will blog off for now, and post this, as I expect to be heading out soon, for yet another FFF confluence with attendant gangstalking and running me up my asshole. Even the Dementia Dad is being sprung out for dinner tonight, when it was only the afternoon yesterday. Charity only begins and ends according to the Fuckover script, and all this Christmas spirit bullshit is nothing to do with anything, save a useful ploy to add extra red and green colors about, and other exploitations that are privy to the perps. Though, the perps also seem to be interested in gift giving and gift acceptance, often setting up those moments to be extra noisestalked, even if portrayed in film or on TV. Yet another aspect of the human condition they wish to represent in its psychic energetic forms. Say, feeling grateful for no reason whatsoever.

2305h
More high strangeness in the FFF house and with the visiting brothers, one sister-in-law and one neice.

As this is being written, the 12" concrete ceiling/floor is being pounded, heard through my earmuffs at least twice, and now, they are shaking this room, a concrete box in a 12 story concrete residential tower, with aforesaid thick ceiling/floors. That takes supreme technology to pull that off, especially to the level of noise that alarmed me, momentarily thinking that they had crashed through into the kitchen.

My out-of-town brother, neice and mother (strangely) made out that they wanted to go swimming at a local pool just after we (intown brother and I) arrived at 1630h. Like WTF, we just arrived for an early dinner and they fuck off, delaying dinner by a potential two hours. The sister-in-law stayed behind, and so it seemed like the typical starve-me scenario, with in-town brother and her. Within 30 minutes they phone, and say they couldn't go swimming as it wasn't for children at that time. (So why didn't you plan this out as the swim schedules are changed during the holiday swim times?). So I hustle to get the table set and in-town brother loafs in the living room, and the sister-in-law is getting some of the cooked items ready. So they come back, dinner is ready to go within 10 minutes and we have dinner together. But still they want to go swimming, and the three of them set off again. Just plain strange that my mother would want to go, but in Orchestration World, the perp abetting so-called family quislings do the strangest things. Anyhow, I help clean up, and the sister-in-law does too, and in-town brother goes back to loafing in the living room.

So it would seem from the orchestration angle, if you follow that line of reasoning, that the perps wanted these three family members out and about while the other three were in the house, once before dinner, and once afterward. More distance dependent testing, especially in dim or dark lighting conditions. The in-town brother loafs on the couch, and falls asleep while the sister-in-law and I are watching the hockey game. This is the same couch that I slept on two days ago when I stayed over, and he duly tried resting with his head at the N. end, and then settled in for his head at the S. end for his 30 min. snooze, hockey game on all the time.

Later the swimming pool visitng family came back, and the inevitable chatting while watching TV started up, subsided, started up and cycled like this umpteen times. Plus the five year old was up to her antics too. Anyhow, typical evening time in a gangstalk family show. About 2210h, my in-town brother, asks me if I want to go, and I tell him that he can take some meat, as there is extra that my mother was offering all of us. He sits there stunned for a minute, and then gets up. I get my coat, get fucked into a forced piss with it on (which happens way too often to be random nowadays), and then when I am ready, he is back with his coat on doing more talking from his seated position when he awoke on the same couch. I have to wait, then he gets up, and then when I grab my meat to go, he then says he didn't get any. Like WTF; the meat is sitting on the stove top, and he went into the kitchen expressly to get a portion of meat, pulled it from the fridge, and then abandoned the task. He reveals that he put some of the recycle papers in his vehicle to take away as a service, which he claimed that is what he did instead of getting the meat. This was all apparently self-directed, no one asked him. So... after doing the goodbyes, and out-of-town brother loafing on the couch and not getting up, I exit the front door to then have in-town brother with the recycle papers in hand, coming at me, and then doubling back, making out that he was doing the goodbye thing when he had already done it. Then he gets more papers to recycle from in front of the garage to put in the back of the pickup truck. Like WTF; attending to the recycle papers was his excuse for abandoning his attending to selecting some meat to take, and then he didn't finish this job either. I just found it fucking bizarre that two jobs, undertaken on his own volition and both left incomplete, were the excuse for not finishing the other job. And of course I am never allowed to think of the greater picture, that all this wierdness is orchestrated and that his handlers are making him look like a total Fuckwit. Nor am I allowed my own thoughts to mention this to him, that his handlers are making him out to be a total flake and he needs a new act, or handler even.

This same in-town brother has pulled other total contrary wierdness stunts, and this was only the latest with no convincing reasons as to why he was behaving so fucking strange. Ditto for the time he arrived and told me to head E. out the front door to where he was parked, and he wasn't there. I looked W. and there he was. If I was to pick anyone in the world to get their cardinal directions correct in any circumstances whatsoever, it would be him. So when I asked him why he got it so totally wrong, he game me a blow-off reason, which I called him on, and he went quiet. If there was ever a time his handlers make him look like a total dipshit it was then, and of course I wasn't allowed to think or even say that. Nor am I allowed to remind him of this past uncharacteristic departure. Fucking beserk bullshit, and I am supposed to look after his cat for a month when he goes to Thailand with his strange girlfriend who now keeps her own room at his place. And who took off out-of-town to visit friends this Christmas season. All too bizarre this so-called family bullshit.

I got assigned to cut up the remainder of the ham in preparation for dinner tonight, and lo, if out-of-town brother doesn't intervene as the expert, and while cutting it into slices there seemed to be a family tour going on behind my back. My mother arrives for a minute stand-there time, and then departs for the two brothers to engage in rare banter and mock fight games, upping the male talk while cutting the ham up. I have routinely been gangstalked by the FFF while cutting up the meat, which has been going on every Sunday evening that I visit, and they do their standing around immediately behind me. So what is the big deal over cutting cooked meat? And they routinely noisestalk me when I do the same in my apartment; sirens, beepings, male banter start-ups, overhead pounding and the rest of it. What is the perps' fucking problem every time they have me cut meat up? And what is their fascination as to what device I use to sharpen the knives? Diamond hones, sandstone hones and the rest of it, even having the out-of-town brother follow me around while he was using the steel to sharpen one of the knives this time. Fucking bizarre.

Enough of the seasonal games, and onto the regular bullshit show as the family visitors are leaving tomorrow and maybe I will get to finish leaf raking this week to score a little more pocket money. blogging off and to ponder what the games will be for the rest of tonight.

About Me

I am surveilled, harassed and gangstalked everywhere I go 24/7/365. Most of the city's population and all its civic services appear to have been co-opted in supporting this depravity. Mind control research is part of this activity, but not all. As an example, I was controlled to drive down the wrong direction of a one-way arterial street where all oncoming traffic was rerouted. All my experience, knowledge and judgement were temporarily hijacked and subverted from a remote location.
This is my journal of all things irregular and of harassment proportions. Those who find this blog and are not a TI are best advised to read the Essential Introductory Postings (above) first to aquaint themselves to the extra-conventional reality that I deal with every waking moment.